Confessor
by Kitty O
Summary: But then – out of the shadows, and Ward thought, "Whoops, that's me". And then he asked Skye out for drinks. Oneshot. Sometime after Turn,Turn,Turn. Canon pairings as they are now!


They figured it out eventually, of course. Ward had never entertained the idea that they wouldn't. Well, perhaps at first, when he thought that HYDRA would be in hiding for a lot longer than it was. But then – out of the shadows, and Ward thought, _whoops, that's me._ And then he asked Skye out for drinks.

He snorted at the thought from where he lay on the ground.

And then he cried out, because the movement only made the blood come faster and the pain worsen.

He wondered where his shooter was. He didn't know the man's name, but he knew it wasn't any of his – of the team. This made him glad. There were other bodies, lying around Ward on the tiled floor, but he didn't think any of them were his shooter. He didn't think any of them were the team, either.

But, look, there was Coulson. He was leaning over Ward without a sliver of kindness in his face, with his gun out, and Ward thought, _I've interfered with the mission. Send me to Alaska. I want to watch over Blonksy's cell. _He felt a pinch, and wondered why Coulson couldn't stop poking and go away.

"Skye," called Coulson, and then he was gone.

Ward's heartbeat sped up and thudded until he felt his whole dying body shake with it. Coulson couldn't do that to him. Couldn't do that to Skye. Ward hadn't really expected him to just shoot the traitor and be done with it, but this? This was cold, and he'd been a HYDRA sleeper agent and even he thought so…

He kept his eyes open enough to watch Skye walk through shattered glass doors. She was biting her lip, and she was beautiful, and she looked like she was thinking terrible, terrible things.

In reality, she was thinking that the gun in her hand had grown warm with her body heat, not cold like it used to be. She spotted Ward on the floor and felt another empty pain, and she made her way over.

"Heya, Ward," she said softly. He groaned in response. "We've called an ambulance," she told him. "But Coulson doesn't expect you'll make it that long."

Ward nodded with some effort, and then he made a noise.

"Stop moving," she told him sharply.

"Skye…" he gasped. "Get away from here. Why'd Coulson send you in?"

"Figured you weren't dangerous, I guess," she said. "And he had to check on the team. They're not coming in… sorry. Fitzsimmons are trying to save the world."

"May?" Ward asked, momentarily distracted.

"She… Uh, doesn't want to."

"You should leave," Ward told her again. "I don't want to see you."

"Well, I've got to hold a gun to you in case you decide to attack someone."

"Can barely move," he told her.

"You seem to do a lot of impossible things."

"I would have killed you," he told her, and he thought it was the truth. "I'm from HYDRA. I want you dead. I hate you." Wouldn't she go away?

"You owe me a drink and a talk," she told him. "I hate you too."

The floor was so cold. If she didn't get out of here, she'd be practically sitting on his blood. He thought about pointing out that she needed to put pressure on the wound, but maybe she didn't want to touch him. That would be understandable.

"I don't actually hate you," she told him. "I guess I love you."

"That's ridiculous," he told her. "I lied to you."

"Was it all a lie?" she asked him curiously. Her gun was hanging loosely at her side. Hadn't he taught her better than that? Damn her. "I've been meaning to ask you. Are you ticklish? Did you really want my help that time with the glasses? Do you like to read?"

He began breathing harder, trying to think through the pain. He looked at her, and she nodded. She knew the answers to those anyway, he thought.

"Did you really think I was a beautiful woman?"

"Yes," he gasped.

She nodded. "Fitz wanted to ask if that comment about him being our little monkey was a lie."

It really hurt to laugh, and he began to whimper so harshly that Skye put her hand on his chest, trying to soothe him. "Hey, hey, hey," she said. "Deep breaths. I know it hurts. I know."

Yes, she did. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Were you actually upset when I was shot?"

He looked away from her, turning his whole head and closing his eyes. Tears rolled down his face. Her hand was still touching him, but it burned.

"I… hoped…" He stopped to cringe. "I hoped I wouldn't have to come out… with the team… Thought… it wouldn't happen."

"Was any of that true, about your brother and hating bullies?"

"True, all of it."

"Then why HYDRA? Why pretend like you're protecting people who don't want or need protection?"

Hadn't he always known that question would be asked one day? Hadn't he always told himself that he'd come up with the answer, something that made sense? So when they asked, he could say it, actually say something worth saying and prove that he was the one in the right. He'd always prided himself that he didn't do things without reason. A better reason than Hail Hydra. Where was that answer? Where? Damn it, why didn't he speak?

"Ward," Skye asked. "Have you ever killed anyone?"

For a moment he thought that was a stupid question. At least two of the bodies on the floor here belonged to him, or at least the bullets in them did. Then he remembered. _High-risk targets… And I didn't feel good afterward._

Asking again, he thought. Like a mother when you've lied and she wants you to have a chance to fess up on your own.

"So many people," he told her before he could think up a lie again. "So many people that I've killed, Skye." The lie wouldn't have made sense, anyway. He was so confused – blood loss. He was crying – _wouldn't his brother hate him for that_ – and he was waiting for her to draw away from him. But he didn't want to her to, because her hand was the only thing left about him that was warm.

She didn't move from him. "Then," she said. "I love you."

He tried to move. "Don't –"

"And I forgive you for betraying us," Skye said.

She was making his chest hurt; why didn't she stop?

"And for not buying me that drink."

"Skye, no –"

"I'm not doing it for you, S.O.," she told him, nearly snapping. "I'm doing it to make me feel better, okay? So you can shut up. I tried to hate you. When I found out the truth, I thought I wanted you dead. All I could think of was you taking a bullet to protect us, and helping us find Coulson, and jumping out of plane for Jemma, and how that was all a lie. But I realized it wasn't hate; it was hurt. You hurt me, Ward. You hurt me bad."

Ward was trying to breathe.

"And I'm tired of being hurt. So I forgive you. I forgive everything, and I choose to think of all the other friends that I actually can trust. And I still love you for all the friendly moments we had."

"Skye," he said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Really?"

"Yes," he said. "Yes, yes." What did it matter? The end was nigh, as they said – that little bit could be said, because it was true. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He just never could change his mind.

"Idiot," she said. "Did you think you could have your secret betrayal and there be no consequences?"

"I'm _dying_, aren't I?"

"Ward, we don't get to choose our own punishments. No one knows that better than me. You broke our hearts… but you aren't going to die. You can't see the bullet wound, but Coulson told me you were probably not in danger – and the ambulance will be here any moment."

"What?" he said, wondering what she was talking about. He was dying. The world was going black, and she was still talking and going on… fading into gray… No, Skye, don't do that, come back; gray is a terrible color on you…

As Ward finally succumbed to the injection Coulson had given him, he mumbled what he thought would be his last words. Skye heard them coming and leaned in to listen. Garrett, who was lying dead nearby, had made his position quite clear when he breathed out his last "Hail Hydra." What would Ward say?

He made a slight gargling sound. "'kye," he tried to protest, and then was fast asleep.

Skye sighed in relief, wiped her eyes, and went to call Coulson back in.


End file.
